


Can't Avoid The Sun

by a_humble_bastard (our_pens_are_sharp), our_pens_are_sharp



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Universes Colliding, Multiverse, i will sail this ship across the narrow sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/our_pens_are_sharp/pseuds/a_humble_bastard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/our_pens_are_sharp/pseuds/our_pens_are_sharp
Summary: When Jaskier upsets a certain sorceress, he's suddenly teleported to a very strange placeOr: When Oberyn decided to go for a walk that day, he did not expect a handsome stranger to fall from the sky
Relationships: Jaskier | Oberyn Martell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Can't Avoid The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> A friend has pointed this ship out to me and I've been in love with it ever since, so I HAD to write about it  
> It's not been Beta read so please feel free to tell me about any grammar mistakes so I might fix them

Perhaps angering the already upset mage was not the smartest idea Jaskier had ever had. But to be fair, he was a little angry at Yennefer as well.

Because really, it was not fair. Gerald had yelled at him and sent him away, blaming him for all that ever went wrong in his life because  _ she _ had broken up with him. If anything, Yennefer was to blame. It was  _ her _ who had tried to bind a djinn to herself which had resulted in Geralt saving her with his damned wish,  _ she _ had joined the damn dragon hunt while Jaskier had made it clear that they would  _ not _ do that and  _ she _ had fought with Geralt only a few minutes prior. So when Geralt yelled at him and sent him away, his first instinct was to run after her.

“You!”, he called out, “Yennefer! Stop right now!”   
She turned around to look at him, her violet eyes red-rimmed but not any less furious, “what do you want, bard? Leave me be.”   
“I don’t know what you did or said to Geralt to make him this- this  _ angry _ , but”, he pointed a finger at her, “but you’re going to make up- right now!”   
She chuckled, “why? You don’t even know why we argued, who says it’s my fault?”   
“It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to be brought into it! Go back and make him not be mad anymore so everything will be fine again!”

  
“Look, I’m not in the mood for this”, she snarled, “just fuck off, will you?”   
From her glare he could tell she was serious, as well as truly  _ hurt _ , and Jaskier knew it would be wise to shut up… but he couldn’t. He was hurt too, dammit. He had endured the entire godforsaken trip up that damned mountain with everyone ignoring him and dismissing his feelings. He was tired of it.

“No!”, he said, stomping his foot, “I will not leave until the two of you have made up again!”   
“Oh, really? We’ll see about that”, she glared at him so intensely her violet eyes appeared to almost flow. Jaskier knew he’d fucked up even before she raised a hand towards him. And suddenly he was falling- and crashing down hard. Instead of cold hard stone though, what he landed on felt surprisingly warm, it was shifting and… groaning in pain?

  
“What in seven hells?!”

“Sorry”, Jaskier muttered before scrambling to his feet and brushing the dirt off his clothes, “oh, I’m  _ so _ sorry, I didn’t mean to- you see, a witch teleported me here and- wait, is my lute still in one piece? I swear to Melitele, if she broke it, I will-”   
He stopped abruptly to look at the two people in front of him. The person he had landed on had gotten up as well and turned out to be a man with dark curls, tan skin and eyes of the most gorgeous shade of brown Jaskier had ever seen.

Next to him stood a woman dressed in a dark green dress with long golden curls falling from her shoulders.

“Gods, you’re beautiful”, he whispered in astonishment before he could stop himself.

The woman smiled, “thank you, I get that a lot.”   
“What? Oh, no. I mean, yes, you’re pretty too, but I was talking to him, actually.”   
“Oh?”, the man in question smirked, “I can only return the compliment. Do you usually call people beautiful after falling from the skies?”   
“No! I don’t- I’m terribly sorry for landing on you”, Jaskier fumbled with the strap of his lute case. Not only did the man look like a god, he also had the voice of an angel, “I didn’t mean to fall from the sky. I just, apparently, upset a certain witch enough to throw me off a mountain.”

“A witch?”, the handsome stranger repeated, raising one eyebrow, “you messed with an actual witch?”   
“Well you see, she’s the lover- or rather ex lover- of my best friend. He’s a witcher, Geralt of Rivia, surely you’ve heard of him. We first met her when I almost got killed by a djinn and- it’s a very long story but it ended up with her getting mad and now I’m here… wherever ‘here’ is.”   
He looked around, frowning. The place looked lovely, really… but he didn’t think he’d been here before. It also did not match the description of any part of the continent that he’d not visited yet.

“So uh… where am I, actually?”   
“You’re in King’s Landing, of course.”   
“King… what?”

  
“... King’s Landing”, the woman repeated, giving him a weird look, “you’ve heard of it before, right? I mean, it’s only the capital and the largest city in all of Westeros.”

“Ah, yes. Of course”, Jaskier laughed nervously, “so… what the hell is Westeros?”   
The two exchanged looks, clearly confused.

“Did you hit your head when you fell?”, the woman asked, “Westeros. The continent we are currently on? The Seven Kingdoms?”   
“My lady, I know far more than seven kingdoms, yet I’ve never heard of this place. I am convinced, I’ve never seen a continent named Westeros on any map before”, he scratched his head, looking up at the sky, “Yennefer, what kind of mess did you pull me into…?”   
“You really have no idea, do you?”, the woman asked in astonishment, “so you don’t know who I am either?”   
“Should I?”, he tilted his head, looking at her, “are you perhaps… a distant relative of Queen Calanthe or… something?”   
“No”, she replied, clearly offended, “who’s that supposed to be?”   
“You stand before Cersei Lannister”, the man explained quickly, probably saving Jaskier from the second woman to get mad at him in one day, “queen mother to King Joffrey of the Seven Kingdoms.”   
  


“O-oh”, Jaskier quickly bowed his head. He’d never heard the name Lannister, least of all heard of a king with that name but he knew from experience that nobles didn’t take well to being offended, “apologies, Your Grace. I should have known from your beauty alone that you must be of royal blood.”   
He looked over to the handsome stranger once again, “may I know your name as well?”   
“Oberyn Martell”, the man replied, “the Prince of Dorne”, he stepped closer to Jaskier with a smile, “you haven’t told us  _ your _ name yet, little angel.”

“Jaskier”, he said, looking into the man’s- into  _ Oberyn’s _ dark warm eyes, “a humble bard, at your service.”   
“Jaskier”, Oberyn repeated and oh, his name had never sounded more wonderful before, “that’s quite unusual. Does it have a special meaning?”   
“It- it means buttercup”, Jaskier stuttered, clearing his throat. His usual way with words had vanished the second Oberyn had smiled at him; for someone who prided himself in his flirting skills he was getting exceptionally speechless around the other man, “I chose it for myself because I thought it was easier for people to remember and recognise me that way.”

“Interesting choice”, Oberyn stated, “though maybe you should have picked the name of a blue flower instead. One that matches your eyes.”   
“W-well, I…”, Jaskier felt the heat rising to his cheeks. Gods, was he  _ blushing _ ?

  
  
“Alright”, Cersei interrupted them, pulling them back to reality. She had her arms crossed but a small smirk on her lips, “I’ll continue on my way and leave you to yourself now. You two seem like you’d rather not be disturbed.”   
She brushed a curl of her golden hair from her forehead before turning on her heels and leaving. Jaskier waited until she was gone before he turned back to Oberyn, “so? Do you usually flirt with people who fall from the sky?”   
The other man grinned, “only with the ones who fall on top of me. So you really are here because of a witch?”   
“Yes, an actual witch. It’s my own fault, I guess”, he let out a sigh.

“So you’ve never been to Westeros before now?”   
“No. I was born in Lettenhove, does that ring a bell maybe?”   
“I’m afraid not”, Oberyn frowned, “you’re from an entirely different continent then. I mean, nobody really knows everything that lies west of Westeros.”

“So to sum that up”, Jaskier said slowly, “I am stranded in a strange land on a strange continent… and I have no idea how to get back. That’s just wonderful.”   
Noticing his distraught expression, Oberyn gently put a hand on his shoulder.   
“Hey”, he said in a soft voice, “we’ll find a way back for you, okay? If you came here one way, there has to be a way back as well.”   
Jaskier looked at him in surprise, “you’re willing to help me? Even after I almost crushed you and got your clothes dirty… actually, they look great, I like the colour and the little sun pattern.”   
The Dornish Prince chuckled, “it’s not every day the heaven spits out a handsome bard, I might as well try to help. And if I can’t, well, I can at least make your time here a bit more pleasant.”   


Once again Jaskier felt a blush appear on his face. He was still more than furious at Yennefer and the idea of being stuck in an unknown place scared him… but at least the handsome stranger made this experience a little better. After all those days of being ignored by everyone at the mountain this was a nice change of pace.

“Perhaps”, he said, “you could show me around while we think of a way to get me home? Oh, you could tell me stories about this Kingdom so I can write songs about it! About the- the wonderous world of Westeros… or something.”

Oberyn chuckled, “I have plenty of stories to tell you, little angel. Especially about the Red Viper. We could go somewhere more private, get us some good wine and I will tell you whatever you wish to know… under one condition.”   
Jaskier nodded already, ready to agree to whatever the gorgeous prince would ask of him, “and that would be?”

“You said you’re a bard. I want you to sing for me. Let me hear more of that beautiful voice.”

Jaskier grinned, “your wish is my demand, my prince.~”

They went on a walk around the city and Jaskier was in absolute awe at how beautiful it was. He kept asking Oberyn lots of questions and the Dornish prince answered each one with a smile. 

“You‘re telling me you‘ve never heard of witchers?”, he asked, “not even of any of the monsters? Drowners? Kikkimoras? Strigas?”

“Not a single one”, Oberyn shrugged, “oh, but I‘ve heard of manticores and unicorns living in distant lands. And hundreds of years ago dragons flew across the Seven Kingdoms, back when the Targaryens ruled. They‘re all long dead, of course, the last living dragons have died tragically.“

“I doubt that”, Jaskier replied, “I‘ve just recently seen one. Well, a dead one, but she‘d just died recently, protecting her egg. Which means there must have at least been another male around. Perhaps even an infamous golden one, although Geralt claims they‘re nothing more than a fairytale.”

“The only dragons I have ever seen”, Oberyn said slowly, “were nothing more than dusty bones. And even though those creatures have been dead longer than I have been alive… the sheer size of them is breathtaking. But tell me…“, he smiled, “why would you want to hear  _ my  _ stories when yours are so much more interesting? You‘ve seen dragons, all kinds of monsters… what could I possibly tell that could match your own experience?”

“Not every good story needs a monster”, Jaskier explained, “sometimes people prefer stories about love and heartbreak and treachery. And sometimes… you only need to add a monster where there was none in order to make a good song.”

He grinned, “I could make you a shapeshifter, in my songs. The Red Viper shifting into an actual snake to kill his enemies with his sharp bite. Oh, or perhaps I will make the royal family a hoard of real lions- nobody can come here to prove me wrong, after all. And if anyone tells me it sounds too obscure, I will tell them they do not understand my metaphoras.”

Oberyn chuckled, “so you always do that? Reshape the story to your own liking?“

“Whenever it is necessary. It depends on what effect the story should have. If I want to paint someone as a brave hero, I‘ll exaggerate his deeds a bit. If I want people to laugh and be happy the tune must be catchy and the text simple. And if I want to express my own feelings… well, I just write what feels right. There is no need for a story then, those songs aren‘t usually meant for an audience.”

“I‘d like to hear one of your songs”, Oberyn said softly, “I wish to hear more of your voice.”

“Gladly”, Jaskier gave him a big smile before grabbing his lute, “what do you wish to hear? A heroic tale? A soft ballad? Something silly but fun?”

“I want to hear the emotional one”, Oberyn said, “the one that talks about your feelings.”

“Oh, but…”, the bard‘s smile faltered, “I told you that one is not meant for an audience…“

“I know… but I wish to hear it. If you don‘t mind, of course.“

“No, no I don‘t mind at all. It‘s just a… a rather unusual request. But then again, most people don‘t know these songs exist.“

They sat down together in a small corner surrounded by trees. Jaskier opened his notebook, skimming through the pages.

“This is the most recent one”, he said, strumming his lute a few times to see if he needed to tune the chords, “so it- it might not be the best. I must apologise in advance, it is a bit sad.“

He played a few chords before he started singing. He‘d started writing this song a few days before the dragon hunt began, a little something to keep his mind occupied while Geralt was busy hunting monsters. He hadn‘t been happy with the song at first, but the night Geralt had gone to Yennefer‘s tent, Jaskier had been lying wide awake, writing away all his feelings. He didn‘t blame Geralt, could never blame him, nor did he blame Yennefer. It was not their fault that they were in love and he‘d always be a mismatched third wheel. He had never lost Geralt to the sorceress because in truth, Geralt was not his to lose. It did not make things hurt any less.

He barely remembered singing until the song had reached its end and his fingers went still on his lute. Oberyn looked at him, wide eyed with his mouth agape.

“That was…”, he said slowly, “that was beautiful. And touching. I‘ve heard many bards in my life, singing at many different courts and none of them ever had a voice as beautiful as yours.”

“Thank you”, Jaskier asked, surprised himself by how timid his voice sounded, “it‘s not my best though, I could play you one of my other songs if you would like to-”

“Who hurt you?“

“I… what?“

“The song was clearly about heartbreak, no? Who broke your heart, little angel?“

“Nobody broke my… a friend”, he let out a deep sigh and lowered his head, “to be fair, he never knew I was in love with him, I never told him. Which didn‘t stop him from… from sending me away. It‘s a little hard to talk about it.“

“It is alright. You do not need to talk about it if you don‘t want to”, Oberyn placed a hand under Jaskier‘s chin to make him look up, “but I want you to know that your friend does not deserve your affection if he treats you like this. An angel like you… should never have to look this unhappy.“

“Thank you“, the bard said quietly, biting his lip. Oberyn was rather close, he realised as he once again admired the other man‘s handsome features. There was a golden shimmer in his dark eyes when the sun shone on them that almost reminded him a little of Geralt‘s eyes, just… softer. Warmer.

“I really want to kiss you right now“, he muttered before he could stop himself.

Oberyn blinked at him in surprise before his face lit up with a smile, “that‘s very straight forward.“

Jaskier felt the heat rise to his cheeks, “well, pining after someone for twenty years didn‘t work out for me, so I figured straight forward might be the better approach.“

Oberyn chuckled, a deep, melodic sound that went right to Jaskier‘s heart, before he leaned in to connect their lips.

All coherent thoughts fled from Jaskier‘s mind right then and there. Nothing mattered any longer, not Geralt and Yennefer nor this strange continent, it was just Oberyn and him now, and the warm spark their kiss made him feel. He hoped the other felt it as well, as he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the sensation.

He didn‘t know how long their kiss lasted, only that he let out a disappointed huff the second it ended. The Prince of Dorne smiled at him, quickly giving him a peck on his cheek.

“You know…“, Jaskier said slowly, reaching for the other‘s hand to intertwine their fingers, “I don‘t think I‘m in any hurry to get home now. Maybe… I could stay for a while longer. Discover this beautiful world… its equally beautiful people. If you will have me.“

“Jaskier, little angel“, Oberyn replied, tilting his head, “you should not be asking me if I want to keep you… the real question is, will I ever let you go again if you stay.“

“Well… let‘s put it this way“, the bard smirked, “if you kiss me like this again, I hope you‘ll never let me go.“


End file.
